Chapter 7 #2
She scowled, but he detected the fresh smell of arousal and chuckled as she flounced away.
He heard her banging around in the kitchen and hoped her cooking skills were better than her wand-craft.
Or perhaps he should hope she wasn’t the type to purposely spit in his food.
He turned on the television and put his flippers up on the coffee table, making a show of sitting back while she worked.
An hour later, the most delectable aroma had his mouth watering.
Faye came into the room. “Where do you keep the placemats?” She leaned into one hip again, her shapely legs jutting out from the pink skirt.
Now that he looked at her, it seemed so obvious she was fey.
Her huge eyes were wide spaced and an unusual periwinkle blue—almost lavender.
Freckles dotted her little button nose. Her honey-colored hair fell in long ringlets down her back.
And while he never thought of himself as the virgin-type, knowing she had never been with a guy somehow made him crave being the one she gave it up to.
And he didn’t buy that fairies didn’t have sex.
That was the most bogus thing he’d ever heard.
“Master?” she said sardonically.
“Huh?”
“Where do you keep the placemats?” At his blank look, she went on, “You know, to set the table for dinner?”
“Oh, I uh, don’t have anything fancy like that.”
“Tablecloth?”
“Um…you could use a sheet, I guess,” he said. “I’d get it for you but…” he pointed at the flippers with a feigned helpless shrug.
She rolled her eyes. “Where should I look?”
“Where should I look, Master?” he corrected. “And don’t roll your eyes again or you’ll be treated to my wooden spoon set. In the bathroom closet.”
She half-rolled her eyes and seemed to rethink it, turning her face abruptly away from his as she marched to the bathroom to retrieve a sheet. A few minutes later, his kitchen was transformed: the table was restaurant-elegant, and the food she put on his plate nearly made him come.
“Oh my God,” he said as she set a bacon-wrapped filet with blue cheese crumbles in front of him, then scooped a large helping of mixed vegetables onto his plate. “I didn’t even know I had blue cheese.”
“You didn’t. I managed to transform some cheddar. I don’t completely suck. Only when it matters, I guess.”
He cut into the steak, cooked rare the way he liked it, the red juices flowing out onto his plate. “You don’t suck.” He shoved a huge bite into his mouth. “This is delicious,” he said with his mouth still full. “You’re an incredible cook.”
Her lips curved up as she cut a dainty bite of her own steak.
“You eat meat?”
“Did you think fairies were vegan?”
“I don’t know, tree-hugging, nature loving types, yeah.”
“Well, I’m pretending this is grass-fed, sustainably farmed meat. Don’t disillusion me.”
“With the amount of meat I eat, there’s no way I could afford grass-fed beef, especially when my tenants don’t pay their rent.”
His enthusiasm over the meal gratified her. She really did not want him mad at her, especially considering the whole master/slave game he played.
“So what is your idea for slave duties? Cooking and cleaning?”
Cade continued to wolf his meal down with enthusiasm. “For starters. And I want to hear your plan for fixing my feet.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Well…”
His eyes narrowed. “You don’t have a clue, do you?”
She slumped in her chair. “Not really.”
“Not really, what?”
She looked up, confused. He wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Not really…?” He put a hand to his ear.
“Master!” she exclaimed, finally understanding him. “Not really, Master.”
“That’s the last time I let you off with a warning. Only because you just made the best meal of my life.”
His dominance made her squirm, but his praise warmed her entire body.
He blinked, looking up at the lights. “Did it just get brighter in here?”
“Oh,” she said, shrinking in her chair. “No. I didn’t see anything.”
“Faye,” he said with a perplexed tone, “come here.”
She lifted her eyes and he nodded, as if to confirm he really wanted her to stand up and go to him.
Dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin, she slid her chair back and walked to his side of the table, her heart picking up speed.
He turned sideways in his seat and pulled her by the waist to stand between his knees. “Did you just lie to me?”
The muscles of her pelvic floor contracted and she shifted on her feet.
How would she survive living under the same roof as Cade Lupus and keep her virginity?
The man oozed dominance, and she found it attractive.
No, more than attractive—magnetic. She nibbled on her lower lip, considering how to answer him.
“Look at me.” His tone was coaxing, rather than harsh.
She looked up at him from under her lashes.
“Did you make the lights get brighter?”
Her face grew warm. “Yeah, that sometimes happens.”
“Why does it happen?” He gazed at her with avid interest, making it impossible for her to stop flushing.
She shrugged, her eyes sliding away.
“Look at me. Was it because I praised you?”
Overcome by the desperate urge to cover her face with her hands, she scowled at Cade, jerking backward out of his grasp. He lunged as she turned, catching her around the waist before she even took a step.
“Very naughty,” he said in her ear, sounding delighted.
She kicked and squirmed as he carried her to the sofa, where he put her down at the end and pushed her torso down over the arm.
She erected herself as soon as his hands released her, but he promptly pushed her back down, capturing both her wrists behind her in one of his hands.
He flipped her skirt up and gave her several hard slaps.
“Ow! Stop it!” she hollered.
The jingle of his belt made her freeze, stopping all her wrestling.
“Good girl,” he encouraged. “If you submit to your punishment, things will go far easier for you.”
“No more punishments,” she moaned, her bottom still sore from earlier.
“Answer me well and you may avoid my belt.”
She held perfectly still, short breaths moving in and out of her chest. “Yes, Master.” She didn’t look over her shoulder but somehow knew he grinned.
“Was I right? Do the lights get brighter when you feel good?”
She released all the tension in her body, collapsing her head onto the sofa cushion in surrender. “Yes, Master,” she admitted.
“Are you allowed to lie to your master when he asks you a question?”
“No, Master.”
“Are you allowed to turn away when you have not been dismissed?”
“No, Master.”
“How many spanks do you think you deserve for lying and leaving without being dismissed?”
“None?” she offered.
“Wrong answer.” The leather belt cracked across her vulnerable cheeks, causing her to gasp.
“Five with the belt and we’ll leave it at that,” he said. “Only because your thing with the lights is so cute.” He struck her across the buttocks with the belt again. “Count them.”
“One!”
“One, Master. We’ll try that one again.”
“Oh, come on!”
He struck her again.
“One, Master,” she grumbled.
“No, that one was for speaking disrespectfully. We will begin with one when you are ready to submit.”
“What if I’m never ready to submit?” she huffed, feeling like a sulky teenager.
“I will remove all your clothing for the remainder of your time here.”
“You are a real jerk,” she said.
He pulled her up to stand and whirled her to face him, gripping the hem of her t-shirt as if to pull it off.
“No!” she shrieked, wrestling it down. “I’ll submit, I’ll submit. I’m submitting!”
He stepped back, folding his arms across his chest. “Show me.” His expression was unforgiving.
Her yoni leaked moisture. She did not know how he meant for her to show him, but she turned around and folded her body over the arm of the sofa again, reaching back to lift up her skirt and offer her bare bottom. “Okay!” she sang out.
The belt swung before she expected it, and she yelped, jumping. He no longer held her in place with her wrists behind her back, leaving her on her own to hold the position. “One, Master! Thank you, sir, may I have another?”
His hand pressed into her back and he delivered three more in rapid succession. “Do not get lippy with me.”
“Sorry! I’m sorry, Master!”
“We’ll start over again from one.”
“All right,” she squeaked, her legs beginning to tremble, her composure in danger of crumbling.
He whipped the belt across her bottom.
“One, Master.”
Again the leather licked her bare flesh.
“Two, Master.”
Three more times he applied the belt with precision, striping her bottom mercilessly as she counted to five.
“Stand and turn around, Faye,” he said.
She obeyed, keeping her chin tucked and her eyes down. He cupped her chin, lifting it until she looked at him. “Your spanking is over.” He kissed her forehead.
Tears sprang to her eyes, and embarrassed, she tried to duck her head, but he opened his arms and wrapped her up in them, providing the stability she needed to quiet her shakes.
“That hurt,” she complained when the trembling settled.
He tipped her face back again. “Yes, it’s meant to. Did you learn your lesson?”
She wanted to smart off and say “no”, but she was afraid of any more spanking, which meant, in fact, she had learned the lesson. “Yes, Master,” she admitted.
“Come sit down at the table again. I’ll reheat your food.”
As when he had warmed her after the motorcycle ride, she found his attentiveness incongruent to his tough “master” act. Incongruent and sweet.
“I’m all finished, but thanks,” she said.
“I’m sorry that had to ruin your dinner,” he said. “But I believe in instant consequences.”
Embarrassed, she restrained the urge to kick him in the shin for his instant consequences. Or at least for talking about them.